Trouble
by tastefulblood
Summary: "I know what all the girls want. They all want the dangerous bad boy who consumes their soul, no matter how much it scares them. Well, I can be that fear for you. I can be that fear that ends up killing you." His face was now inches from mine as his tongue ran over his bottom lip, his words venomous yet true. I swallowed, my eyes darting back and forth between his cold stare.


**Jacob**

I clutched my leather jacket to my body as a cold breeze sharply hit against my chest from the wife beater exposing my skin. Leaning onto my motorcycle, I dug into the inside pocket of my jacket to search for a cigarette and my lighter. I needed something to take the edge off, even though it wasn't the strongest thing, of another day in my life. The nicotine addiction wasn't my problem. My fucking problem was that I was sick of struggling.

When I was eight, my father went out one night to do some extra "business". He called it that to try and hide it from my mother, my two sisters, and me. I knew what he was really doing, we all did. He was going to the borderline of Forks to do a drug deal. We were low on money for our rent that month so my father agreed to do some smuggling work from the next town over.

My father has been involved in one of the gangs in in Forks, The Washington Wolves or just The Wolves for short, They happened to be one of the more well-known gangs in the area and they've done some pretty fucked up things that everyone in town was well aware of. Between drugs, gunfights sometimes ending in murder, and quite a few rapes, The Wolves had their territory marked. Anyone who thought differently of that were going to get their asses handed to them.

Little did my father know The Wolves heard a rumor that he wanted out and he wanted that extra money so he could leave with a little more dough to prove that he wasn't a slicker. Now, the only way that leaving was going to be a choice was if either survived getting the living shit beaten out of him or if they decided to kill him. Some brotherhood. The Wolves had had a plan all their own to keep my father from dishonoring his place in the gang. His big moneymaking deal was actually just a set up by the gang's leader, Tony, and you never fuck with Tony. Tony planned for my father to sell drugs outside of Forks to another gang, The Bloods. As a sign of loyalty and desperate need for money and freedom, my father walked straight into Tony's trap.

It only took one bullet to successfully kill my father and it only took one phone call to shatter my world. I looked up to my father and always wanted to be like him when I was older. That's exactly what I have done.

When I turned thirteen I decided to take on my father's legacy. I got jumped into The Washington Wolves and have been in gang activity for the past five years. Getting jumped was one of the worst fucking things that has happened to me. You pretty much stand in a circle of pissed off gang members looking for fun in watching and making weaklings suffer. I could not be seen as week, but you are not allowed to fight back. You just have to go numb and pretend you aren't there. That's what made your survival in life and in the jump. Between getting kicked in the stomach and face, broken ribs, and bruises and cuts all over your body, this was the life many people had to live. You couldn't walk into the hospital because then you would have to tell them what happened. Gang violence was on high alert.

When I came home from my initiation, I had to witness the second heartbreak of my mother. She didn't want this for me. She slapped me right across the face and cried for hours, telling me that she didn't want me to end up having the same fate as my father. I had to do this, though. I needed to do this to protect my family just like my father did for us.

I've seen too much at the innocent ages of thirteen and fourteen. People have died in cold blood right in front of me. I threw up the first few times in an alleyway after it happened. The other group members made fun of me and still do to this day. I have to continue proving now that I'm not a pussy who can't handle the life I chose. I've also witnessed the party life that comes with being associated with gangs. Smoke from illegal substances filled rooms, people were having sex in induced hazes and they didn't even know that they were doing it, alcohol was on everyone's breath, and deal were happening all around me; all at once. I lost my virginity at the age of sixteen to a girl I never met, never remembered, and never saw again.

My life was spiraling too fast for me and all I could do was get my shit together and deal with it. Avoiding trouble and getting into it was an everyday occurrence. Running from the police was daily exercise. Fighting was a daily communication.

It all sounds like bad shit but there are some good things that come out of it: benefits. The main one was that my mother and sisters were being protected and taken care of. They are pretty much everything I think about when I'm out doing jobs. I can hear my father's voice in my head, telling me that I'm doing right by my family, by him. Another thing is the members are truly like a second family. We don't always get along but that's what makes it all real.

I met my best friend, Derek, through The Wolves. He was jumped in about a month before I was. We made a vow, by getting burned symbols into our skin in the shape of two "W's", indicating that we would always stand by each other no matter what. Everything we've experienced, we experienced together. He understood my background and never questioned anything I did because of it. Derek's life is a little different than mine. His father is an abusive drunk bastard but Derek joined The Wolves to gain strength so he could fight back. He wanted to prove to his father that he wasn't going to be his punching bag. Two years ago, Derek finally had enough and hit his father back after he came home and found his mother on the floor, holding her stomach in pain. She was six months pregnant with his little brother, who unfortunately died after a few hits from Daddy Dearest. The police were called and his father was sent away to jail for domestic violence and murder. Just like me Derek was left fatherless.

Thinking about how everything came to be for me always made me frustrated. It was me doing what I thought was right and I can't have regrets.

Taking my now lit cigarette to my lips I took a long drag, sucking in the thick musky smoke, letting it out in a stream of white fog.

"I knew I'd find your ass here."

I turned my head over my shoulder when I heard the sound of Derek's voice and from the dead leaves, from the fall, crunching under his feet.

"I didn't ask you to come find me." I offered him a hit from my cigarette.

He took it from me and sucked in a deep breath, exhaling to speak, "Yeah, but I know what today is. I know you prefer having no company. We go through this every year, J."

I looked down at my beat up sneakers, shoving my hands into my pockets. Today marked another year of my father's death. I visit his grave every year and tell him about my mother, his two little girls, and my involvement in the gang. I never tell him how I'm doing personally or that I even miss him.

"Yet, you still thought that coming here was a good idea?" I picked my head back up and stared at him with a slight glare.

Derek nodded, throwing the cigarette on the ground and stomping it out. "I'm just here to make sure you don't do anything stupid. I don't want you calling me drunk off your ass like last year and wanting me to pick you up from bum-fuck nowhere. I was with a girl, you know." He laughed, nudging me in the shoulder playfully.

"Thanks for the support." I bit back sarcastically.

"Anytime." He placed his hand on my shoulder firmly and licked at his dry lips. "So, are you planning on coming to Tony's party tomorrow night? I was told the newest jump in recruit from The Bloods is supposed to be showing up. I bet money you could kick his ass."

I chuckled smugly. "I wouldn't mind giving the newbie a friendly warning or winning your money. You know just how to cheer me up."

"That's what brothers are for." He said before staring forward with me. Then he let out a short breath.

"What?"

"It's nothing." Derek shook his head and then spit on the gravel-walking path I had parked on. It was the closest one to my father's headstone.

"It's obviously something if you're huffing and puffing over there about it. Spill." I ran my top row of teeth to scrape over my bottom lip.

He shrugged. "I don't know. It's just…Do you ever think about what would happen if things didn't work out? I didn't want to mention it to you because of your old man and all." He sighed, combing his hand through his brown hair.

Honestly? Sometimes I did but I couldn't let my thoughts distract me because fucking up and failure wasn't an option. Then again, my father succeeded by failing, having a trusting bond with the gang and then getting screwed over and killed.

"It is what it is. People live. People die, D."

"Yeah," his tone turned soft as he nodded. He shook his head seconds later and cleared his throat, "you wanna ditch this place and light one up back at the warehouse?"

I smirked at him, his ability to go from serious to the true Derek being way too apparent. "I'm in. Let's go."

"Cool. Don't forget that I paid for the shit this time. You can't go off giving it to some homeless fuck when you think you're done with it. It's expensive."

"Yeah, yeah." I waved him off, laughing. I happened to think it was funny, giving a free joint to some hobo, who was already on a natural high of his or her own. The sap was probably now sitting in jail. At least it wasn't us.

As Derek cut across the grass to get back to his car, I took one last look at my father's grave. I raised my hand and gave him a small wave, "So long, Pops."


End file.
